Sunday, November 30, 2014

Love My Butt


Don't forget to choose who makes the prettier girl (details here) and also choose which version of my eyes you prefer (details here)!

Tuesday, November 25, 2014

Men We'd Love to See Feminized ~ Round 2, Week 9

Who makes the prettier girl?

Angus T. Jones?


or Donny Osmond?


Vote in the poll to the right; and while you're there, choose which version of my eyes you prefer (details here)!

Men We'd Love to See Feminized ~ Round 2, Week 8 Results

A tight race, but Neil Patrick Harris is your choice for prettier girl:


Sunday, November 23, 2014

Seeking Assistance

As many of you already know, the eyeliner and mascara in my photos of myself is "digitally enhanced" for a variety of reasons, among them eye sensitivity and the fact that my lashes are so thin that all the volumizing mascara in an Ulta store doesn't seem to make them photograph well.

That said, I've been doing that enhancement the same way for years here. But I recently came up with a new way to do it (using a different image editing software) and I'm interested in what you think looks better. So here is a cropped look at one of my recent pictures (not one of the close-up portraits) ~ one is done exactly as I've always done it, the other with the "new look". (With the exception of the "eye makeup", the two images are identical.)

Which one do you prefer? There's a poll to the right, above the one for the ongoing "who's prettier" question, for you to vote in.


While you're voting, don't forget to choose who makes the prettier girl (details here)!

Saturday, November 22, 2014

Last Dressing 6

Final outfit from the twenty-four hour session:



The red cowlneck sweater is by Basic Editions, from Kmart in March 2013; the faux leather pants are by Dana Buchman. from Kohl's in April 2013; the shoes are Fioni "Hilt" red patent pumps from Payless in November 2009. Other accessories are floral headband and crystal jewelry.



One more portrait:


More pics on Flickr; coming soon ~ the year-end review video; and don't forget to choose who makes the prettier girl (details here)!

Friday, November 21, 2014

Last Dressing 5

Third outfit from Thursday...




The little black dress (every girl should have one, right?) is from Target's Mossimo line in February 2010; the shoes are Dollhouse "Margaretta" black pumps with metal heels, from Shoe Dept. in January 2010. Other accessories are a floral headband, pearls, and natural hose.



Another portrait:


More pics on Flickr; one outfit to go; and don't forget to choose who makes the prettier girl (details here)!

Thursday, November 20, 2014

Last Dressing 4

Second outfit for Thursday....



The white blouse with gold buttons is by Notations Woman, a thrift shop find in January 2012; the high-waist stretch skirt is from Kmart's Bongo line in June 2012; the shoes are Dollhouse "Harlot" croc-print pumps, from Shoe Dept. in January 2010. Other accessories are a floral headband, gold jewelry, black belt, and natural hose.

Another great ass shot on the right.



One of my prettiest portraits:


More pics on Flickr; two outfits still to come; and don't forget to choose who makes the prettier girl (details here)!

Last Dressing 3

First outfit from Thursday....



I'm wearing my butt padding in this and several other outfits...so there's no digital magic in making that ass look so good.

The blue cowlneck sweater dress is by Mossimo, from Target in January 2010; the shoes are Fioni "In the Mix" navy felt peep-toe pumps, from Payless in February 2011. Other accessories are the black hat, silver jewelry, black belt, and natural hose.



And the portrait for this posting:


More pics on Flickr; three more outfits to come; and don't forget to choose who makes the prettier girl (details here)!

A Touch of Spice

PART THREE:

On the way home, I more or less knew this was permanent, but hoped against hope something would change.

As soon as we entered the door Felicia said, "Mother and I will be taking care of the packages, Giselle. I want you to relax in the tub dear. You've had a long day. I'll be up to take care of you, sweetheart," she said with a smile and a conspirator's wink

She didn't have to tell me twice. In nothing flat I was running a hot bath, naked and in the tub waiting for my love, full make-up still intact.

Felicia entered with her hands and arms quite full. She hung up a nightie set, placed a bowl on the vanity after filling it with hot water. Then she began pouring scented bath oil in the tub. She motioned for me to stir the oil into the water, as she stated sweetly, "We need to get you all smooth, clean, sweet-smelling, fluffy and pretty for tonight, dear. You and I are going to have some real fun. Just like Beverly and I used to have in the old days."

I looked at her pleadingly and she continued. "Don't pout at me, dearest. I've told you more than once how much I sometimes missed my Bev. How I wished you'd femme up for me once in a while and be like her. Well, tonight, dear, I've stopped asking. This evening, I've decided to take full control. Tonight, I'm your mistress and you're my sweet little lover girl. Stand up and we'll shave those legs. Now, dearest! I'm waiting!" She said this with the firmness and confidence of a true domme. The humiliating spanking I would soon get would finish off any resistance I still had left. At this point, I decided not to resist, out of the fear of what she might do should I refuse.

I stood up meekly as she soaped my legs, chest, and genitals. She worked efficiently, humming to herself, and smiling. Once she had taken care of my now-aroused genital area, she continued with my chest. Completing that, she handed me the razor, saying in a commanding tone, "You've shaved mother's legs enough, you can do your own. Rinse the razor in the water bowl as I did. Keeps hair out of the tub."

Turning towards the door, she stopped, and as an afterthought said, "Please use that hairdo bonnet hanging on that towel rack. You needn't ruin that lovely do Rebecca gave you. Don't muss your make-up either. If you do muss it, repair it. I know you've fixed Elaine's plenty of times. When you're finished, put on some White Shoulders, that powder-blue baby-doll set, and those heels. Then come to my bedroom. We're going to confirm who's boss in this relationship."

I knew when she left that this was indeed a permanent thing. I hadn't said a word in my behalf. Not a word.

Thirty minutes later I did my best to prance into the room, in as feminine a manner as I could. Make-up repaired, heavily perfumed, hair fluffed with a bow attached on the side. I'd even thought about putting matching polish on my fingers and toenails, but couldn't find any Black Cherry.

My mistress, and I knew she was my mistress, sat comfortably on the love seat in her bedroom, holding a plastic hairbrush in her hand. I would soon find out that my bedroom was the room next to hers.

"Well, well. What a pretty, sexy girl. Too bad we're going to have to spank her," Felicia said with a mock pout. She motioned to me saying, "Over my lap, Giselle. Just a couple of love taps to put things in perspective. A pink butt is an obedient butt, I always say."

I didn't hesitate, although I was certainly scared. As I positioned myself over her lap she slipped my ruffled, baby-doll bottoms down, running her hand over my butt, and cooing softly to me.

She then said with firmness, "Okay, Giselle, honey, you can hold on to that end of the love seat. I don't want you falling on the floor. If you have to, go right ahead and kick those smooth little legs of yours and shriek and squeal for all your worth. Don't worry about mom hearing you. She'll probably come in to watch anyway. Another time we'll set some rules for spankings. You know--counting the swats and thanking me?"

She phrased it as if I got spanked all the time. "Here we go sweetheart!" she warned. Smack!

Then a few more and I began to kick and scream just as she had predicted.

Apparently, Elaine was too busy to watch, as she never came in. Not that night, anyway.

As the spanking and my sobbing continued, the whole aura of my submissive femininity began to take over. I began to feel helpless, controlled, and tingly. I was also very aroused. I began to rotate my pelvis into Felicia's lap and make babyish whimpers. She responded by lessening the force of the spanks before she stopped altogether. I then felt her oiled hand begin to rub and pat my hot, red butt. The combination of being soothed along with my increasing arousal caused me to begin to beg, "Oh please, my mistress, make me your sex toy! Do anything you want to me! Please! I need you so desperately!"

That was what she'd wanted me to hear. I'm almost certain of that. Possibly not those exact words. My surrender to her will, completely, was what was important. She helped me to my feet and pulled me to the bed using my engorged penis to drag me along.

Once on the bed I was positioned on my back with my feet towards the headboard. My baby-doll bottoms were still pulled to my thighs, my heels still on. Removing her negligee, she mounted me and lowered herself onto my face, looking down at me the whole time. My whimpering was soon replaced by the muffled sounds of me licking her clitoris.

Soon she was grinding her pelvis into my face and mouth. Between my slurps and gasps, I heard her tease me about smearing my make-up. Then I felt her tense as she threw herself back, her gorgeous breasts thrusting out. She shuddered to an orgasm and laid beside me,pulling me to her.

"Oh, sweet Giselle. You've been really good for Mistress Felicia. That's how we want to do it. Never ever come until I let you baby. Would you like to come, Giselle? Ask me nice,then. Real nice," she added.

I was very surprised, as it had been the best lovemaking we'd ever had. I wanted to complete it for me desperately. I had no trouble begging for a couple of minutes for permission to have an orgasm.

"Of course you can, baby. I'm a very kind mistress when my girl has been obedient. Let's see. I want to put you into a cute position and have you do something very sissy-like to make it fun for both of us. Oh! I know!" she said happily.

Putting me in a kneeling position on the bed, with my torso upright, she handed me the same hairbrush used to spank me. She held a small bottle of Aloe Vera gel. She sat on the bed facing me and slid herself so her legs were either side of my waist. She began to massage my unladylike rod with her hands coated with the gel. She moved her hands as if she were moisturizing them, but in this case my penis was in between. I was in paradise. Smiling she said, " Okay, sweet thing, brush my hair. Make believe you're a salon girl. Tell me how pretty I am. Stare directly at me when you do it. Right at my face. Right into my eyes. Tell me I'm gorgeous and that I have beautiful hair. Do it baby!" she said with a hot, sexy, throaty voice.

I've done similar favors for her while she's had hold of me. She's fully in control. I'll do and say anything. I've sat on a dresser while she's been in front of me in a chair, while I put hot rollers in her hair. I've applied her lipstick for her and made up her face, her sitting on the bed, me standing. Sometimes she'll have me talk with a lisp. Other times I'm made to tell her what a good (or bad) little sissy I've been that day.

The commonalities in these situations are threefold: She is massaging my genitals, I'm doing something very sissy and swish, and when she gives me her permission, I have the most intense orgasms possible. She brings me to such a peak, and my release is so complete that I am brought to the sweet tears of surrender. This first night as her submissive girl was no different. When the day did finally dawn, I was still safe in her arms, and ready to become whatever she wanted me to be. Girlfriend, maid, submissive lesbian lover--it didn't matter. I could and I would. She only need say the word.

Elaine had her own ideas. Although they conflicted with Felicia's, Elaine was well-intentioned. It's just, that as coconspirators, there was a slight miscommunication, between them. Nothing serious. We worked it out. Beverly, whom I once distrusted, was a great help.

"My but you two were noisy last evening. I do hope you had a good time," Elaine commented the morning after at breakfast. "Goodness you both look lovely today. Especially you, Giselle. Felicia, while you're at the office today, I'll get Giselle started on some charm lessons, among other things. We don't want anyone ever doubting her station or her pedigree. It's very important." She said this as if it were routine. I smiled. I was thrilled she would take the time to teach me.

"Yes, mother. It is important. For my sake, would you make sure she has my lounging pajamas, some foot cream, and three fingers of Pinch, neat, waiting for me when I get home?" Turning to me, with a wink, she said, " I have no objection to you being in something very comfortable either, girlie."

"Daughter, dear, remember, I'll be here also when you arrive. You could wait for the something comfortable stage. Possibly later in the evening," Elaine said, a little put off.

"Okay, mother. By the way, some type of quiche would be nice this evening," Felicia said as she kissed me and went out the door.

Elaine, not to be outdone, watched her through the front window as Felicia got into her Audi. Mummy shook her head and commented, "She was always a bossy child. Got her way. Without complaining though. Very persuasive. I'm proud of her."

Then, to me she said, "Well, my child, I'm proud of you also. You've made impressive strides. I'm very pleased. Today, your journey into womanhood will continue. You're dearly loved by my social set. You're their darling, even now. I intend to make you a social butterfly. The 'Belle of the Ball,' so to speak. Shall we begin?" she asked with a smile and conspirator's wink.

"Oh yes, mummy Elaine. Teach me. Teach me to be like you! Please?" I actually pleaded.

I had no idea what I was getting into, but hardly cared. I just knew I was going to love being fussed and fawned over, being pampered and petted--the center of attention. "Mummy's girl."

Elaine was good at what she did. If I had been the darling of her social set before, as she had predicted, I became their little social butterfly. If I wasn't with Elaine at a girlfriend's house for tea, we were "doing lunch" at her club. I learned all the social graces. She gave me intense charm lessons that were not without their moments of discomfort over her knee.

Felicia would notice my pink butt in bed and laugh, "Don't worry. My strap-on won't go anywhere near that part of your butt tonight."

I still performed adequately in bed. I still maintained my good cooking and housekeeping skills. I even donned a maid's uniform when told to because I adored the way I looked. Adoring the way I looked and needing to be the center of attention would prove to affect our sex life. I grew to love spending all morning at the salon and having the girls go way overboard in complimenting me that afternoon at the club. There was no way I wanted to get mussed by Felicia that evening, Mistress or not.

We were now in our new home, maybe three weeks, when things came to a head. That morning I'd cleaned house until maybe nine, having risen at seven to see Felicia off to the office. Then I'd really dolled up because mummy and I were going to an art show, then to a friend's for a late lunch.

Felicia decided to surprise me by coming home for a romantic interlude at noon. I hadn't mentioned a thing about going out with mummy. I rarely did. We just went out a lot together. I took it for granted. Mummy pulled in right behind Felicia. I minced out the door, gave Felicia a dainty little wiggle of my fingers, blew her a kiss, and said, "Hello love. Can't talk. Mummy and I have a big day planned. See you around sixish." Never missed a beat.

Felicia stared at me all the way to mummy's car and we drove off. We were at the art show when mummy's cell phone beeped. Always the lady, she took her conversation into the powder room. I waited politely, chatting with a couple of my "fans," chatting about, not the artwork, but my favorite designers.

Elaine was in the powder room quite some time, I gather, but I hardly noticed, being thoroughly self-absorbed in my showing off. She smiled as she walked up to our group saying, "You'll have to excuse Giselle and myself, girls, something's come up. Nothing serious. I'll explain at the ladies brunch tomorrow. Come along, precious." She smiled as everyone said their surprised good-byes.

I obediently minced behind her, asking questions a mile a minute until she turned to me and said, "Quiet please, little missy. I'll explain in the car on the way to your new home. You, on the other hand, will remain completely silent. No questions, no idle chatter. Is that understood?" she asked with a firmness she rarely used with me, except just prior to a spanking.

I nodded timidly and whispered, "Yes, mummy dearest."

On the way home she was her usual firm but understanding self. She explained much of what was happening and even shouldered much of the responsibility. As I gracefully stepped from her car and blew her a kiss, she smiled and told me, "Giselle, this is only temporary. It is however time for me to let go of you, so you can flower as my daughter's wife." She went on, "I have a venture I need to pursue for my own satisfaction. You need time to grow with Felicia. Remember, we only live a few miles apart."

As she drove away, I waved, and I walked into the house. Felicia appeared to be in the process of leaving. I was shocked and my face must have shown it. "Don't worry princess, I should be back in about ninety minutes. I was unable to cancel one of my afternoon appointments. It's a consultation." She said as she put her coat on.

"Anyway, we will be discussing a few things when I return. It wouldn't hurt for you to be in something sexy. For instance, the baby-dolls laid out on our bed." She meant business, but I decided to be slightly defiant.

"Yes, ma'am. Are there any other instructions?" I asked a little too impertinently.

She spun around at the door and strode towards me, "As a matter of fact there are!" she exclaimed. "I'd like you to shower, Ms. Liz Taylor, and shampoo the goo out of that dated bouffant flip you wear. Then re-style your hair natural and tousled, like the wench I want you to be. Make-up? Sexy, but be ready to smear it all over me. Any other questions?" She truly affirmed her dominance with her next statement.

"Before you answer--don't ever again use that flippant tone of voice with me. I'll put you right over my knee. Understood?" She stared at me and then walked up to me and held me. I began to sob. We both did some apologizing. Me, for being so absorbed in myself. She for her devotion to her work.

As she wiped my tears she took a deep breath and said, "This will appear to be bad timing." She looked at her watch. "I have a few moments. Let's sit down."

She began, "Bev's condo lease is up soon. She's nowhere near to finding a home to buy. I told her she could move in to the guest apartment here until she does. This has nothing to do with us. If anything, she'd like to help. I need to have you begin sharing in decisions like this. How do you feel about it?" she asked.

As much as I wanted to say no, I did my best to smile and said, "I feel okay about it."

Today I'm thrilled that I did. Bev is really lots of fun. She can be strict. Sometimes stricter then mummy or Felicia even. The good thing is, she loves Felicia as much as I do.

"That's great, Giselle. You're so sweet! Give Mistress ninety minutes, give or take a few, and we'll make up for lost time. Remember, really hot and sexy. Okay?" She gave me her most seductive wink.

I headed for the bathroom. I planned to take less than ninety minutes. I wanted to be waiting for her at the door.

I made it. So have the three of us.

Epilogue

"Bevy, Giselle, we'll be late," Felicia called. "Oh, okay, you're ready." She smiled.

"Yes, and we look hot, too," Bev said as she pinched my butt. She continued to playfully tease me. "You won't feel jealous seeing some one else at Elaine's wearing the maid's uniform, will you, Giselle?"

I laughed, "No, Madame Beverly, I wear one enough around here." I giggled, really in character, as she swatted my butt.

I took the back seat in the car after holding the door open for Felicia. Bev stood at her door, so I got out, sashayed around to the passenger side, curtseyed and held the door open for her. She winked as she climbed in, mentioning I shouldn't forget my place, then she smiled.

Felicia, as usual, was above it all. She knows her place, she's our queen.

It's a beautiful day to visit mummy. She made such a big deal over me when she saw me. "My goodness! You're a redhead! Those curls!" She gave me a big hug.

Mandee, promoted from pool boy to ladies maid, definitely had mummy's mark on her--lovely adult maid's uniform but those jet-black sausage curls really screamed out mummy's sissy. She served us beautifully.

Tanya from the hair salon entered from the rear of the house and there were greetings all around. I was puzzled by her presence momentarily.

"I really do have to run, girls. A private appointment with our new governor, at her mansion," she explained. "God, am I glad she dumped that bozo. I hated going over there. He was always pawing at me after I'd get her under the dryer," she added with a mock shiver.

She continued, "Elaine, your three students are waiting for you to excuse them, so they can call home for their rides. They did really well with their beauty lesson, especially Percy, I mean Rachel. I gave them home work, but told them to wait for you for dismissal." She waved and waltzed out the door.

Mummy rang her little maid's call bell and Mandee pranced in and curtseyed. I could see she was still having just a tad of trouble with her six-inch heels. Not much, just a very little. I could see that mummy noticed, too. Probably had her wearing them because of company. I was sure this shortcoming would be brought to Mandee's attention later in the evening.

"Mandee, excuse the girls from their lesson for today. They're on the patio. Have them wait for their ride, in my office. Make sure they're told to sit quietly. If they have written homework, they can start on it. Call Miriam Grant, Danielle's older sister. She's picking the three up." She said this in such an organized professional way.

As Mandee walked away, I saw Elaine do something very out of character. She lightly touched Mandee's thigh and winked at her. I thought I noticed Mandee shiver just a little and take one or two unsteady steps.

Mummy turned back to us and told us what a joy it was helping her friends with the "uncooperative young boys" in their lives, and how rewarding it was "watching these same young ruffians bloom into demure, gentle, flowers."

She was right. When Miriam Grant showed up, those three little angels left in demure single file, after curtseying to everyone and kissing mummy goodbye.

We left about an hour later, making a date with mummy to go to a dressage competition.

Bev had me sit between her and Felicia on the way home. When she started to rub my leg, I knew it would be a long Sunday night. Especially when Felicia's hand went underneath my black leather mini dress. Things had really changed.

THE END

Don't forget to choose who makes the prettier girl (details here)!

Last Dressing 2

The second outfit from Wednesday night:



The pink argyle twofer is by NY Connection, a thrift shop find in February 2013; the black faux leather skirt is from Target's Xhilaration line, from October 2013; the boots are Jaclyn Smith "Tiana" black suede boots, from Kmart in October 2013. Other accessories are the black hat, black-and-white jewelry, and natural hose.

I think I'll call the shot on the right "Dani--International Sissy of Mystery!"



Another portrait:


More pics on Flickr; four more outfits to come; and don't forget to choose who makes the prettier girl (details here)!

Wednesday, November 19, 2014

Last Dressing...

...before Dani's seventh birthday.



Here's another new dress ~ the rust colored knit dress with a cowlneck is by Robbie Bee, purchased just last week at Ross (my first time there); the boots are also new ~ more on them later. Other accessories are black hat, gold jewelry (new necklace and earrings), and natural hose.



The boots are Jaclyn Smith "Tisdale" knee-highs, in black faux suede, from Kmart. The website describes them this way: "a pointed toe, side bow detailing on soft, faux suede and a sexy 3.5-inch stiletto heel." The bow doesn't show real well in these photos, but it's really quite attractive.


And a portrait:


More pics on Flickr; I'll be doing five more outfits over the next 24 hours; and don't forget to choose who makes the prettier girl (details here)!

A Touch of Spice

PART TWO:

The seven blocks to Tanya's Total Look salon seemed like an eternity at first. But into the first block mummy and Felicia each took one of my hands and gripped them tightly. Fortunately, we had placed all the packages in the trunk of the car, and they only had their purses to carry, giving them each a free hand to comfort me.

I was wearing a very fluffy rose-colored sweater with a pair of charcoal gray stirrup slacks. The black patent leather slip-on casuals I wore had a platform heel--enough of a heel to change my gait to shorter, more precise steps. I had nylon slip-up stockings on, my own socks being somehow "misplaced" at the boutique. Everything was set off by a white silk scarf tied at my neck, the ends falling to my shoulder. I consoled myself by thanking my lucky stars, that I wasn't wearing the emerald-colored bolero jacket, or the cream-colored harem slacks with the red sash belt that were now boxed and in the trunk.

Entering Tanya's, the receptionist greeted both Felicia and Elaine by name. She then asked, "Well, are you girls going to introduce me to your new girlfriend?"

I wanted to disappear but my mentors held my hands all the more tightly.

Felicia came to my rescue by saying, albeit jokingly, "Goodness, Rachel! The lighting in here needs to be improved. The girl you refer to happens to be my husband, Billy. I'll agree he's a slightly built pretty boy, but this is the first time he's ever been mistaken for a female."

Everyone had a slightly uncomfortable laugh. As I sat down, Rachel led the ladies into the salon. She came out and handed me a copy of Vogue. "Sorry, we only have fashion, beauty and gossip magazines left. Most of the ladies in here tend to read business and news publications--except for your wife. We keep American Horsewoman around for her." She smiled prettily.

As I sat reading, my thoughts were on lunch. Glancing at my watch, I figured it might be a late one, or possibly more like an early supper. Seated where I was, I got more than a few glances from the lady clients entering the salon. One girl about ten said, to my embarrassment, "Mummy--that girl with the ponytail braid has on such a pretty sweater!" This brought a smile to Rachel's face.

About 45 minutes into my reading, my reverie was broken by Elaine coming into the lobby saying, "Billy, we've just had our manicures and need your opinion on a matter of Felicia's hair."

I followed her into the salon puzzled, but thrilled that Felicia would want my opinion on anything, especially her appearance. Entering a private cubicle towards the rear of the salon, I saw a stylist and a woman facing the mirror. The women had a perfect, short, honey-blonde bob. She spun in her chair to face me. Smiling, she said, "Well how do you like my new look!" It took me a moment to realize it was Felicia.

Stunned at this complete change, I was speechless. She decided to help me out. "Goodness, silly, it's a wig! I'm thinking of getting my hair colored, cut and styled like this. What do you think?" she asked.

I was actually relieved. I had always loved her hair in a shoulder-length pageboy, flipped under slightly. As for her color, I'd always liked it when she colored it a couple of shades darker--a rich, deep sort of burgundy auburn. Feeling slightly bold, I took a deep breath, and told her.

I was relieved when she actually smiled and said, "Well, Rebecca, I think that settles it. Why don't I go over to Carol's booth and have the color done like my Billy likes it? I'll also have her give me a slight trim, and of course, we'll curl it under," she added, winking at me.

As Felicia walked away, Rebecca spoke to Elaine, who quickly maneuvered me into the chair vacated by my wife. "You know, Elaine, Billy here has some serious split ends. Actually with that cute outfit he's wearing, that drab hair color just doesn't do it either. Check this out," she said, as she reached for a somewhat longer bobbed wig of the same blonde shade Felicia had worn, and handed it to Elaine. She coiled up my braid, and pinned it to the top of my head. Placing a wig cap over my hair, she took the wig from Elaine, and snugly fitted it on my head. She and Elaine smiled as the stylist fluffed the wig out and combed it.

"Let's go get Felicia and see what she thinks," Rebecca said excitedly.

"No., she's probably already getting colored. I think she'll love it. Won't she, dear?" asked Elaine as she squeezed my shoulders.

My resolve had been nearly completely weakened. I wanted to protest but thought of the scene it might cause. Indeed, the consequences could be excessively humiliating.

"Well, pumpkin, should I have Rebecca go ahead with the treatment or not? We don't have all day. Tanya, herself, is waiting to do me," she said, increasing the pressure on my shoulders slightly and then relaxing it.

Still confused, I replied meekly, "Yes, I think so." Then, with a little more confidence, "Yes. Of course. Especially if Felicia will like it."

"Like it? She'll love it! Rebecca, you have a new client!" said Elaine gleefully, while hugging me firmly.

Placing a plastic, salon-style cape on me, Rebecca propelled me towards the shampoo sink. Although initially hesitant, I soon became immersed in the relaxing pleasures of being pampered--the feel of skilled hands working the shampoo into my scalp, the pleasant, cherry scent of the conditioner, the warm water and cream rinse.

Even after she began the coloring, and my adverse reaction to the strong scent of the chemicals became evident, she assured me it would all be worth it. I smiled and relaxed.

Seated in front of the mirror, I became mesmerized as she trimmed my hair to the correct length. Then she worked in a small amount of sculpting lotion and began my styling and blow dry.

As she fluffed my hair and combed my bangs, the lovely shape of the honey-blond bob became evident. It framed my face, the ends tapering to two cute curls at my cheeks. Rebecca had me shake my head for effect. We both giggled as the silky feel of my precisely shaped locks tickled my neck and face. As I admired my new, if not pronouncedly girlish look, my reverie was broken by the sound of Felicia's voice coming closer.

"Mother, I truly can't believe you had Rebecca do Billy's hair," she said as she entered my cubicle. She stopped suddenly when she saw me and she smiled, and said, "My humble apologies, mother. Goodness, Billy, you look sensational!" she cried as she hugged me and squeezed me in her strong arms.

Her hair was still wet, but had been trimmed and tapered. She already had that glow that women get, when they know they'll be leaving a salon looking absolutely stunning.

Then she paused, glancing at everyone, "You know, Rebecca, this is a picayune matter. Don't you think that his brows and lashes should match the hair color?" she inquired.

"Oh, absolutely. A brow and lash tint is definitely in order. In fact, his brows could be cleaned up a tad," Rebecca replied.

Felicia threw her hands up and smiled saying, "Excellent. Then, that does it. Come along, mother. By the time we reach the café, they'll have stopped serving lunch."

Soon I was being given both these treatments as mother and daughter returned to their respective booths. A manicure with clear varnish was thrown in as a freebie.

At the cash register as Elaine paid, I couldn't take my eyes off myself. Between the new hairdo, the fashionable clothes, and the things done to my eye area, I had taken on a whole new persona.

The three of us left to go to the Green Earth Café, a trendy health-food restaurant. My mood had somehow changed from one of shame, to a peaceful feeling of mild acceptance. For some reason, I wanted to belong. I wanted to be part of what these ladies did together. I'm really uncertain what caused this. I still believe it was the "salon experience" as it's sometimes referred to.

I've spoken to many cross-dressed friends about it. Some forced; some, like me, coerced; others, voluntary. Most all agreed that their first pampering at a salon with the "girls" had really been special.

I felt like walking and chatting with the ladies and expressing myself more with my hands and eye movements. It made me feel very happy and lightheaded to do this. I noticed the ladies' strong approving glances and smiles.

The effect of the whole treatment had opened up my eyes and made my face and hair even more feminine. Along with my new, almost natural mannerisms, I was very nearly girlish.

This was even more evident when the hostess at the café said, "Where would you ladies like to sit?" Worse yet, the waitress complimented me on both my "pretty sweater" and "lovely hair color", at the same time referring to me as "miss."

Throughout the meal, whenever the waitress did come by, she appeared to compliment me about something. Feeling self-conscious, I would thank her politely in a soft, subtle voice. I just didn't want her to realize I wasn't a female.

Finally, she asked Felicia, whom she seemed to know, "Where's your husband? I thought he was coming with you and Elaine today. I've been dying to meet him. You've both told me so much about him. Couldn't make it?" she inquired politely.

"No, he's just been so busy lately with the housekeeping, Linda. We decided to invite my cousin Giselle along though. She's visiting from Florida. Has a little cold--the weather. Oh, goodness! How rude of me. You haven't been introduced!" she exclaimed.

As she introduced both Linda and me, I managed to do my best to limply shake her hand and use my best, slightly feminine, slightly hoarse voice.

Linda continued to complement me. "Giselle, I think you look fabulous. I just love your natural, no make up look," she said, smiling.

"Oh, she usually uses make up. We left the salon in such a hurry, Rebecca didn't get a chance to do Giselle's make over. She was a little late getting Giselle in for her appointment--kind of backed up. We didn't want to miss our reservations here. We're going to do her make up in the powder room before we leave," Felicia said, her eyes peering at me the whole time, her speech clear and precise.

"Well, I'll bet she looks really great then. Enjoy the rest of your meal," Linda said cheerily.

When it came time to leave, Felicia said in a matter-of-fact manner, "Let's go to the powder room, Giselle. No complaints. I think you know what this is all about. If you don't, I'll explain at home." Taking me by the arm, she nearly dragged me to the ladies room.

When I told her I needed to use the rest room first, she made sure I sat down to use it.

As I approached the vanity in the powder room area she produced a tube of lipstick and pointed to the vanity bench saying, "We may as well be convincing. No female leaves a café restroom without freshening her lipstick." She smiled.

"Please, dear," I pleaded. "Not just this moment," I practically begged.

"Why not? You've been heading this way for ages. I say the sooner the better. Now get over here. Or do I have to carry out the threat I made at the dress shop?" she asked firmly.

Walking towards the mirror, I felt nearly all of my last vestiges of maleness melting away. The final pieces would dissolve later that evening. For the time being, I told myself this was just a temporary thing.

I have to admit that Felicia applied my lipstick with love and care, making it perfect. She even used it to give my cheeks a blushed look, after putting my foundation and powder on. Then my shadow, pencil and mascara.

Fully made up, staring at a real feminine looking person named "Giselle" I realized what had been going on all along. All the hints, the innuendoes, the feminine situations.

Actually, it had been obvious, but I had denied it. Denied I was a candidate. Denied what they were doing. Denied that my token resistance was proof that I had actually welcomed my transformation.

Satisfied she took my arm and we left the restroom and café to meet Elaine on the sidewalk. Elaine smiled at me complimenting me on my choice of lipstick shades, barely acknowledging that I was fully made-up.

"Candied Plum, isn't it Felicia?" Elaine inquired.

"Close, mother. It's Black Cherry," my wife replied.

"The rest of the colors are lovely choices as well. Beautifully blended, dear," she said holding my chin in her palm, and gently turning my head, side to side.

TO BE CONTINUED

Don't forget to choose who makes the prettier girl (details here)!

Tuesday, November 18, 2014

Men We'd Love to See Feminized ~ Round 2, Week 8

Once again, who makes the prettier girl...

Neil Patrick Harris?


or Jim Parsons?


As always, make your choice in the poll to the right.



Men We'd Love to See Feminized ~ Round 2, Week 7 Results

After an extended voting period, the clear winner is...

Zachary Quinto


Monday, November 17, 2014

A Touch of Spice

Another lost story by Priscilla Gay Bouffant

PART ONE:

It seemed that whenever I had any problems my mother-in-law, Mummy Elaine had been there to comfort me, "her princess," her "little Giselle."

From the very start of my transformation, I had been her project. Although I was being trained for her daughter, my wife Felicia, Elaine was putting her imprint on me--Felicia being too busy overseeing the construction of our new home, and the opening of her third physical therapy office, with her partner, ex-college roommate, and former (I hoped) lover Beverly.

Mummy Elaine had ulterior motives. I was to be the so-called "daughter she never had."

From a young age, Felicia had shown proficiency for sports and health care studies. On the basketball court, though not overly tall, she could shoot a mean jump shot, block out underneath, pass behind the back and rebound with the best of them. She could ride horses bareback. The sight of her doing this, her shoulder-length hair flapping in the wind, enchanted me no end. Her talents in school and her keen business sense were well known among her peers, and she disdained the term "tomboy."

"I'm not a boy, I'm a woman. My strength comes from that. I can be commanding in the boardroom as well as the bedroom," she would state to me with a seductive smile.

It was true. She was a fashion plate when it came to her appearance. She could also move with the feline grace of a Hollywood starlet on Oscar night. Our lovemaking was passionate, mainly because she took the lead and taught me how to please her. Though I believed my pleasure was secondary, she always saw to it that I was fulfilled.

She would not however, be the frilly, little princess her mother wanted. Not for Elaine, not for anyone. That would become my job.

Elaine had told her in confidence that I was a perfect candidate for their project. I proved her correct, right away. I didn't hesitate for us to move in with Elaine right after our honeymoon. Felicia suggested it was a wise move as our home was not yet under construction. "It would be foolish to rent or lease, for that short a time," she said in a way that assured me that the subject was closed.

I also quit my job at Elaine's suggestion. I fully agreed it was a dead-end position. I then became Elaine's assistant as far as housekeeping, some paperwork, and personal services were concerned. I never even hesitated to wear my first obviously girlish apron.

I became the darling of her social set. "My goodness, Elaine, your house is always so spotless and neat," one of her socialite friends would say.

"I couldn't do it without my Billy. He's such a fussy little housekeeper. So fastidious! A whiz in the kitchen also!" she'd exclaim.

It was true. She had taught me how to cook, clean, do laundry, scrub floors, make beds. Just about anything a homemaker might need to know. She did have a cleaning service coming in twice a month, but there was always plenty for me to do.

My training had actually begun when Felicia and I were dating. She was away at her last year of college, and mummy would have me visit. I'd help her host afternoon teas with her lady friends.

"My, my Elaine, your Billy is absolutely adorable!" one matron had gushed. "Would you mind training my son-in-law Percy for me?" she asked. "Such a lovely apron he's wearing also," she would add.

Elaine would smile and brag about me, and then mention jokingly (I thought) that she would have an opening or maybe two whenever we moved into our new home.

"I know I'll need a new maid," she'd joke. "Possibly I could tutor a couple of day students," she said candidly.

"Well, let me know," the matron replied. "In addition to Percy, my nephew Armand would probably make a terrific housekeeper for you, and he needs a job."

"Oh, Armand? He's cute. Didn't he do pools for a while? Send him around this spring. We'll get him started outside." She smiled.

All was not perfection, though. I found some things a little more difficult then others.

Ironing was one, especially the pleats in tennis skirts. Personal services were another. I was fairly good at shaving legs, but hairdressing and nail care came a little slowly.

When Elaine was displeased, she could be quite the strict taskmistress.

"Well Billy, you're not coming along very well with that skirt, are you? I think you need practice. I'll have some of the girls at the club bring their pleated skirts and dresses over. After you've done several, your skills should improve. By the way, unless you want these same ladies knocking at the door to have their hair and nails done, I suggest you begin practicing on yourself," she added.

As embarrassing as this was, I started painting my own fingernails and setting my hair at bedtime. Felicia wasn't exactly thrilled, but tolerated it. She was really only home from college during the holidays anyway.

"You do obey your mummy, don't you Billy?" she would tease.

By this time, I also realized Felicia could be very domineering in her own way. It also had become quite obvious that she and her college roommate, and constant companion, Beverly, were much more than that.

When I raised this subject, she replied "You can't expect me to suppress my sex drive for weeks, Billy. Besides, female-to-female sex is the cleanest and safest. You should be happy that I'm not shacked up with some smelly boy," she stated plainly, then added, "You don't have any complaints about the time we spend together, do you, dear?" She would smile, wink, and touch my cheek gently.

It was our first all-day shopping trip, lunch and salon visit, however, that really cemented things.

It was a Saturday, two months after our wedding. Felicia had been out of school for two years. With her and Bev's skills and business know-how, they'd done fantastically well. Elaine's financial connections had helped also. Construction of our new home had just begun. Felicia's new office would be opening in a week.

We started early. Virginia's Fashion Sense was our first stop. Felicia went right off with her favorite salesgirl, Laurie, saying, "Let mother and Billy look at the petite and junior miss sizes. I'll never be one of those."

Felicia was five-nine and about 150 pounds, a very nice size 12. I was fully three inches shorter and fifteen pounds lighter. Her reference to my being her mother's size made me feel slightly self-conscious. My hair and Felicia's were both shoulder-length. She wore hers in a pageboy style. Lately, Elaine was having me wear mine in a braided ponytail.

As Elaine began to look through sweater and slack sets she would glance back at me and smile. It never dawned on me how much I followed her around whenever we were together. We did seem inseparable at times. Of course, whenever Felicia required me to be with her, I fulfilled my duties as her spouse. On an occasion like this though, I somehow sensed that Felicia desired to be on her own and that I stay with mummy.

Looking back at me for the third time, Elaine said, "You know, precious, it wouldn't hurt for you to spice up your wardrobe. Maybe a few slacks and sweater sets. Possibly some shorts and top combinations. A little more flair in your footwear would be a step in the right direction, also. I know both Felicia and I would just love it. She'd be so pleased. How about it, Billy dear? Why don't mummy and her Billy surprise Felicia with a wardrobe change?" she asked so very sweetly.

I couldn't resist. If it meant pleasing both of them, well, I'd do just about anything.

She motioned for Gwen, a saleslady, to come over. "Gwen darling, this is my adorable son-in-law, Billy. Could we find him some things in this section? Nothing overly feminine, of course," she said, with obvious emphasis on the word feminine.

Gwen and Elaine went right into action. They began putting different combos of clothing together, including shoes and stockings. With each set of clothes I'd proceed to the dressing room, change, come out nervously and model, then return to the dressing area to do it all over again.

Gwen's young assistant, Pam, stationed herself outside the door to answer any questions I might have, and keep any ladies from accidentally coming in.

All the sweaters seemed too fluffy, all the slacks and shorts too form-fitting. The shoes were either shiny patent-leather casuals or strap sandals. All had some type of heel, wedge or platform. The tops were all skin-tight and revealing. The hose were filmier then anything I'd ever worn. It didn't matter though. The ladies pronounced every outfit "perfect".

Worse yet, as I stood in front of a full-length mirror turning this way and that, at mummy's instruction, my lovely wife walked up and said, "Now this is a side of you I didn't know about, Billy. Actually, it's very appealing. Gwen, don't bother boxing this little number up. He can wear it to the salon. That way he'll have no trouble fitting in," she said, with just a hint of sarcasm.

When I protested only slightly, Felicia said, "Excuse me a moment, ladies. We'll meet you at the register. My husband and I have something urgent to discuss." She then took me by the arm and escorted me into the same dressing room I had used. Closing the door, as well as pulling the curtain shut, she began, "Billy, my love, we've discussed your occasional reluctance to obey on at least two occasions. You do recall them, don't you, darling? Once while we were dating, then again on our honeymoon. Need I remind you what happened?" she asked.

"No, dear. I remember very well," I answered very submissively.

"Well then, I want you to tell me what transpired. Not what your offense was. I want you to tell me what happened," she said, firmly.

It took quite a bit for me to not begin crying, but I managed to say, "You gave me spankings, my love."

"Exactly! You may also recall that on both occasions it was done privately. This time you give me no choice. I will give you the spanking here in the dressing room. You will then tell mother and the sales ladies what happened. Or you can simply leave here wearing that lovely outfit. The choice is yours, pumpkin!" she pronounced in a matter-of-fact fashion.

I knew full well that, if she wanted to, she had all the strength needed to carry out her threat. On our honeymoon, she had managed to restrain me and silence my squealing with scarves and panties, in our hotel room. On our date, we had gone to her room, as Elaine had been out with one of her country club friends. That time she had wrestled me to the floor and pinned my arm behind my back. I was then made to beg to be spanked. I decided to honor her request to wear the outfit, no matter how shameful I felt.

We left the room and walked to the register. Only Elaine and a cashier were there. Elaine acted as if nothing unusual had happened.

As Elaine paid for our purchases, she asked, "Well, shall we walk to Tanya's?"

Felicia quickly responded, "Of course, mother. It's such a lovely, cool, fall day."

TO BE CONTINUED

Don't forget to choose who makes the prettier girl (details here)!

Friday, November 14, 2014

Thursday, November 13, 2014

Surprise Dressing 4

You've seen this outfit before...except for one new addition discussed below.



The saddle shoes really turn this into the ultimate schoolgirl look, don't they? All this needs is a school letter on the sweater, right? The red twofer is by Basic Editions, from Kmart in January 2011; the red tartan miniskirt is by Teenbell, bought at Foreman Mills in September 2014; the shoes are discussed in detail below. Other accessories are a white floral headband, silver jewelry, and kneesocks (I considered the frilly ankle socks, but thought the kneesocks looked better).



They have no heels, no bows, no buckles...but something about saddle shoes is just so girly, right?


These are Predictions saddle oxfords from Payless, bought in November 2014.

And a portrait:


More pics on Flickr; if things go as planned, I'll be dressing again next week; and don't forget to choose who makes the prettier girl (details here)!